Chapter Text
MASK OF MANY FACES
A tragi-comedy
Dramatis Personae
BOLAIRE LATHALIA, sentient mask
HALANDIL FANG, comedian
THJAZI FANG, his brother
THIMBLE, a rogue fairy and Thjazi Fang’s confidante
COMEDIANS OF HALANDIL’S TROUPE
THE PEOPLE OF DOL-MAKJAR
SCENE 1
Evening, a theatre in Dol-Makjar. HALANDIL and his TROUPE perform a play in front of a relatively small crowd. The shabby decoration is bathed in the gentle glow of candlelight. Some of the audience listen to the play and half-heartedly clap at appropriate moments; the rest of the theatre looks more like a tavern, with a bar, chairs, tables, laughs and conversations. BOLAIRE, shaky and visibly weak, is standing at the back of the room.
HALANDIL, standing on stage next to a young man holding a lute
If music be the food of love, play on,
Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken and so die.
BOLAIRE absent-mindedly makes his way to the bar and bumps into THJAZI.
THJAZI
Are you a comedian, good sir, come to join the troupe? With that mask, I should say you will have great success, though you might want to take it off while you walk – it seems like you can’t see where you’re going.
BOLAIRE
Pardon me, friend. It seems I was so entranced by the play I did not pay you mind. Might I buy you a drink to apologise ? I find it is sometimes a surer way to look behind the mask than to take it off with your mere hands.
THJAZI
You must be new in town if you think my hands are discarded that easily; but no matter, a hero always heeds the call to adventure, especially in the form of a free drink.
THJAZI and BOLAIRE walk up to the bar and wave to the BARTENDER.
BOLAIRE
So what’s your poison?
THJAZI
Yahrgraz, I’m afraid, though you may not find it to your liking.
BOLAIRE
Better than that awful boxed one I’ve seen around. Two cups of Yahrgraz, my good man.
The BARTENDER brings two cups and the two patrons sit down at a table.
THJAZI
Entranced by the play, you said? I myself was never a man of the arts, but I suppose a player must recognize the talent of another.
BOLAIRE
You mistake me, sir – I am no actor, though I do play a part, as must we all. I am new in town, however. Pray would you tell me what the name of this man on stage is, or his troupe? I may not play, but some would consider me well able to support the arts, and I am much interested in this one.
THJAZI
You are in luck, then, for I know that man on stage; his name is Halandil Fang, and if you tell me a little more about who you are, instead of what you aren’t, I might tell you where he and his troupe practice every morning.
BOLAIRE
Ah, but where to start! I am a collector of sorts, of rare and beautiful things.
THJAZI
And these beautiful things, you like exhibiting them, or keeping them for yourself?
BOLAIRE
Both, though I especially delight in wearing them, on occasion.
THJAZI
I see – hence the mask, I suppose. Do you ever switch, or is it always the same one?
BOLAIRE
I suppose I do switch – only when the company permits it.
THJAZI
Pardon my forthrightness, then, but have we met before? Your face feels familiar, so to speak. It may be rude to ask, but you wouldn’t happen to have had any part in a rebellion recently, would you?
BOLAIRE
A part in it? Perhaps, though not one you would remember, I think.
THJAZI
Look, I would just feel a lot calmer if I knew what your face looked like, no offense.
BOLAIRE
Very well. Since you so insist, I may let you peek behind the mask; just find us a more discreet place, and the deed is done.
As THJAZI looks around him for a quiet room, a smile on his face, THIMBLE suddenly flies up to him and whispers something in his ear. His demeanour changes and darkens, and he nods.
THJAZI
Unfortunately, our deed will have to wait another day; duty calls. Don’t worry, I have a feeling we shall see each other again. Thank you, for the drink and for your time; in return, you may be interested to know that Halandil and his troupe usually practice their lines in the Rookery. Farewell, good sir.
Exit THJAZI. BOLAIRE seems to sink down and coughs a little as he turns back to the stage, disappointed.
HALANDIL locks eyes with BOLAIRE as he finishes his speech.
HALANDIL
Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mischief:
I’ll sacrifice the lamb that I do love,
To spite a raven’s heart within a dove.
The AUDIENCE claps.